Tempering the Sword
by UnreliableNarrator
Summary: Harry wakes up in a strange place with only Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy for company. It seems that he has been sent into hiding with them and must learn to live with them, who were once his enemies.
1. Chapter 1

**Tempering the Sword**  
disclaimer: This is a story in the Harry Potter universe, using characters created by JKRowling. I lay no claims to them and am not making money through them.  
summary: Harry wakes up in a strange place with only Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy for company. It seems that he has been sent into hiding with them and must learn to live with them, who were once his enemies.  
rating: T.

**Prologue**

Sharp light bled through Harry's eyelids, making him squint even though his eyes were shut. He never could figure out why Madam Pomfrey liked it so bright: surely dim is better for the ill, especially those with headaches as painful as Harry's.

He rolled carefully onto his side and lifted his now un-trapped right arm to brush away the crusts on his eyelashes. At least, he tried to - for some reason, his hand was still squashed beneath the pillow. With a mumble of determination, Harry made another attempt and managed to slide his arm on top of the pillow, then collapsed back onto his stomach in exhaustion.

"Ah, Mr Potter!"

Harry groaned and buried his face as best he could. Even on the brink of death, as it seemed it were, he would recognize that voice anywhere. Snape.

The distinct sound of rustling robes and clinking phials grew closer, and Harry imagined he could smell some vile potion, though really, he was doing his best to focus on the laundry scent clinging to the pillowcase.

"Well, it seems you're awake finally." Snape continued, perching on the edge of the bed if the sudden dip Harry felt was any indication. "I was worried that they had overdosed you with the draught. Too much antidote can be dangerous, I'm sure you recall. Come now, up with you!"

Arms maneuvered Harry into a sitting position and rested him against a stack of pillows. He was starting to get worried about his limp state and Snape's mild tone wasn't very reassuring. After all, if Snape was here, then they couldn't be at Hogwarts, and it sounded as though he had been poisoned. Something cold and metallic pressed against his lips, which opened against his will.

"Ah-ah, Mr Potter. Unless you wish to remain in this state for the foreseeable future, you should swallow the potion." Snape's arm snaked under Harry's shoulders again and held him up, presumably to take the potion more easily. "Yes, I know it tastes awful, but coffee beans and peppermint and morning glory don't make for the best combination. You'll just have to be satisfied with being fully awake and capable again."

Ah. Harry knew that combination. It was the antidote to the Draught of the Living Death. Ordinarily quite fatal on its own, the morning glory reacted with the nightshade lingering from the draught to negate any effects of the first potion and render the sleeper wide awake. He swallowed the bitter goop as best he could without gagging and sagged against Snape's arm.

Harry could trust Snape, he hoped. The man hadn't taken him to Voldemort to be killed while he was sleeping, or for that matter, killed Harry himself, so the situation mustn't be too awful.

"Very good. You'll begin to feel the effects soon, I'm sure." Snape was still speaking in that soft tone, so very different from the harsh bark he used in the dungeons at Hogwarts. Harry struggled against the cotton still packed around his mind and in his mouth. "Wher' m'I?" He managed after a few moments, unable to open his eyes for the light and sleep-crumbs.

Someone else approached the bed, slippers sliding across a hard floor and then a carpet. Whoever it was paused nearby, blissfully blocking the light from Harry's eyes when he turned in that direction. There was a moment of silence, and he could just _feel_ the new person and Snape talking silently over his head, then a warm, damp flannel brushed against one eyelid, then another, brushing away the vestiges of sleep.

Harry was just able to crack his eyes open when the bed to his left dipped and the person shifted away from the light again. He whimpered softly, then groaned in embarrassment at such a weak noise, but it had the desired affect. Snape's hand - it had to be Snape - moved the flannel back over Harry's eyes and ordered, still in that strange mild tone, "Move back a bit, Draco. Mr Potter has a bit of a headache from the draught still, and the light isn't helping any. There now."

The flannel lifted and Harry tried opening his eyes again. The first thing he noticed, other than Draco Malfoy sitting right in front of him, was that he was in a fairly large bed in a strange, lightly furnished room, and the light attacking him was from the sun streaming through large, naked windows.

He tried speaking again and found that it was much easier, likely on account of the flannel adding moisture to his lips. "Where am I? Professor Snape?" He turned his head to the right, ignoring Malfoy as best he could. "What are you doing here? I-" He broke off with a light cough and waved his hand around descriptively. "What is this place? What did you mean about McGonagall?"

"All very good questions, I'm sure." Snape sounded almost amused. Harry started to wonder if maybe he really were dead. Why else would he be in a bright room, with Snape and Malfoy of all people taking care of him. He tried to look as unworried and curious as possible, and Snape continued. "As I'm sure you've deduced, even with your limited skills, you have been dosed with a sleeping potion. After your last attempt to find the Black Horcrux, Headmistress McGonagall deemed you too unstable to remain at liberty, so to speak. I do believe that you returned to the castle after that attempt with the prospect of several weeks in hospital. You are now in a safehouse with Draco and myself, until such a time as I deem you ready to return to Hogwarts." With a fluid movement, Snape rose from the bed and beckoned Draco to do the same. "You are still under the influence of the draught, Mr Potter. In an hour or so, I will return and we will further discuss this situation, when your faculties are completely your own."

Harry frowned at Snape, but couldn't think of anything to say. He simply nodded and pulled the blankets back over his lap, prepared to doze for a bit. Snape gestured Malfoy through the door, but paused before doing so himself. "I expect you to have given consideration to all that I have said when I return. Draco and I rely on the secrecy of this safehouse for our lives, and now that you are here, you do as well." Then, disturbingly, Snape smiled. "I'll be back in an hour," he reminded Harry, then left and shut the door.

* * *

Next: Chapter 1, in which we discover what exactly Snape and Malfoy are doing in a safehouse, how Harry got there, and why he was sent to live with Death Eaters of all people. Plus, Harry learns that over-use of Dreamless Sleep leads to complications with Draught of he Living Death. (No wonder he's so placable in the prologue - or perhaps he's still too muzzy-brained from the potion. Find out next time!)


	2. Chapter 2

**Tempering the Sword**  
disclaimer: This is a story in the Harry Potter universe, using characters created by JKRowling. I lay no claims to them and am not making money through them. summary: Harry wakes up in a strange place with only Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy for company. It seems that he has been sent into hiding with them and must learn to live with them, who were once his enemies.  
rating: T.

author's note: normally, i don't like to use author's notes to speak to my audience. i feel that i ought to be able to convey everything i need to convey through the story itself. however, i have received several questions about the nature of the story regarding pairings. to these inquiries, i would like to say that this is NOT a romance story. should any romance occur, it will be secondary (or tertiary) to the plot. if you are reading this solely to see harry and draco or harry and severus or severus and draco or whatever other combination you want to get together and have hot monkey sex, you're reading the wrong thing entirely. this is first and foremost a bildungsroman with a side of adventure. i hope that if you started reading because of a potential romance that you will stick with me and offer writing critique, because this is the first piece i've ever written serially and i'm sure that i could use loads of improvement. (also, someone mentioned ooc characters in the prologue - i wanted to let this person know that i'm fully aware of this, and they aren't ooc according to my backstory, which i'm trying to work in, but i don't want to blurt it out all at once.)

**Chapter One**

Harry sat at the kitchen table, tracing the scars in the wood with his forefinger. Just like everything else in the flat, the table was old and worn from generations of use. It wouldn't have been surprising had the bedframe dated back to William the Conqueror, or the scratchy armchair in the sitting room to Henry the Eighth. The porcelain toilet had so many cracks and chips in it, Harry feared that it would fall apart with the lightest touch. He didn't even want to take a guess at how the sofa in the parlour remained standing through the night with Snape sleeping on it. It's not like any of them had use of their wands here.

In the two days since Harry awoke from the Draught of the Living Death, he had done his utmost best to discover everything he could about the flat whenever Snape or Malfoy's backs were turned. It wasn't easy. One or the other always seemed to be within sight (not surprisingly - the flat was only four rooms and a washroom), and the creaks and groans made by just about everything gave him away in no time at all. Not that he had been forbidden to look around. On the contrary, Snape had invited Harry to make himself at home since he would probably be here for quite a long time. It just felt wrong to poke into cupboards and check under the potted plants when people were looking on.

Besides, Harry knew the wands were hidden somewhere and there was no way that he'd be allowed to freely search for them, not after the threats Snape made the first day. Harry had been fuming over _that_ pretty much nonstop.

"You are here for your own safety as well as the safety of the wizarding world in general." Snape had begun, as stern and menacing as he had ever been. "I doubt the safety of myself and Mr Malfoy was considered in this plan, but I am quite fond of my hide and Mr Malfoy would rather not be made to face the Dark Lord again. Therefore, in addition to the precautions already in place, I have created a list of rules which you will follow." At that, Snape had paused, as if expecting Harry to argue. Not that there was anything he could say. He was stuck in this dump with Snape and Malfoy with no visible means of escape. Those two had the upper hand in the situation and Harry was starting to suspect that it might be best to follow meekly for a bit.

When Harry hadn't responded after a long pause, Snape took up his pacing again, ten steps from one side of the room to the other. "Very well. First, this safehouse _must_ remain secret for as long as any of us wish to make use of it. Should we be discovered, our lives are forfeit. In order to maintain the secrecy, we must live as much like Muggles as we can. Thus, no wand-magic, no owls, no floo, and so on. Also, until I decide otherwise, you are not to go out. The neighbours believe that I am the only person living here, so I am the only one they should see. I will be the one to fetch anything we need from the shops, to work in our section of the garden, or to do anything at all which others might notice. Do you understand?" Snape had stopped right next to where Harry lay on the bed and peered at him sharply, much like a hawk eyeing its prey before tearing into the flesh.

"What about the windows, sir?" Harry had asked, indicating the naked panes filling the western wall of the room. "Can't they see us through them? Malfoy and I can't possibly stay hidden in a cupboard all the time." He admitted to himself later, in a very very small voice, that he had been a bit belligerent then, but how was he to know that the flat had been thoroughly spelled? Snape hadn't wasted any time before making sure Harry was quite clear on that. Not only was the flat untraceable and unplottable to wizards, but the windows were charmed to show empty rooms, specialized silencing charms made sure only mundane noises like clanking pots or water running in the shower were let through the walls, and every possible exit was spelled against Harry's leaving unless he was accompanied by Snape.

Snape had left after reciting another list at Harry, this one a list of expectations for the duration of Harry's stay in the safehouse. He, Snape that is, wasn't going to let Harry or Malfoy just live there like spoiled children. They would have to earn the right to share his, Snape's, safehouse, no mention of how it they hadn't had much of a choice about living there - and in Harry's case, it wasn't a choice at all. The boys would have to take lessons from Snape, just like if they were still at school, and help with the upkeep of the flat. Harry was surprised that Malfoy actually did his chores, rather than whinging about being a pureblood and house-elves and other rubbish. Then again, Malfoy had been living with Snape for several months now, and was probably glad to have another prisoner to share the load with.

At the moment, rather than sitting around brooding, Harry was supposed to be reading a grammar school magical theory book. "Your knowledge of the fundamental precepts of magic is abysmal, Mr Potter." Snape had snarled the day before. "How you have managed the types of magic you have done, without any idea of how the spells work - well, you may as well be an illiterate working in a library. Merlin knows you're already powerful enough. Just think of what you're wasting!" It had taken every ounce of self-preservation Harry had to refrain from doing more than clenching his fists under the table and aiming a glare at Snape. Besides, that sounded almost like praise, in an underhanded and outraged Snape-y way, and _that_ happened about as often as Snape ruined a potion demonstration in class.

Snape had ranted on a bit about Harry's inability to do anything right, then disappeared after lunch, which Malfoy had prepared. When he returned several hours later (his absence having proved quite convenient for Harry's exploration of the flat), he brought with him several brown-wrapped parcels.

He refused to discuss anything about it until the next morning, even when Malfoy came out of hiding and pestered him. It was really disgusting, the way Malfoy talked to Snape. Harry thought he would gag, it was so simpering sweet. Not that Malfoy needed to suck up to Snape or anything. It was obvious to Harry that Snape would do anything for the prat; he already did Malfoy's dirty work for him and leveled the killing curse on Dumbledore.

It wouldn't be surprising if there were something sinister going on there. This was twice now that the two of them had locked themselves into the bedroom since Harry had awaken from the Draught of the Living Death. Both times, Harry heard odd, distracting noises that sparked his imagination in exactly the sort of way he really didn't want to think about.

They'd been in there for an hour now, just long enough for Harry to get bored with Magic and Me : An Introduction to How Magic Works. It was difficult not to be insulted by the simple language employed in the text, but he doubted that Snape would believe that he could read words of multiple syllables. Harry'd looked at the other books, but they were either aimed at children or the titles were incomprehensible to him.

Harry pulled the textbook back towards himself and aimlessly flipped through the brightly colored pages. He had nearly finished the small thing, but wasn't sure if it was metaphorical or not. The descriptions of magic sounded silly and over-simplified, reminding him of his science books in Muggle grammar school. 'Magic is all around us,' the textbook began. 'Everything in the universe has magical properties, but some things, like witches and wizards and magical artifacts, are affected much more strongly than other things, like Muggles or non-magical objects and beasts.'

The book went on to describe the different properties of magic and the interaction of magic with the universe. Apparently, wizards used magic in three ways. The first was like the beating of a heart or the orbit of the stars - wizards couldn't control this kind of magic and sometimes they didn't even notice it at all. The inadvertent magic children did fell into this category. The second way was like breathing, blinking, or the growing of plants. Most of the time magic in this category was out of a wizard's control, but it could be guided or manipulated to do as the wizard wished, as in arranging a garden or grafting two plants together. The final usage of magic was most like the purposeful movement of muscles to cause the wizard to walk or dance or eat, and so on.

Harry paused on this particular chapter, snorting in amusement as the children in the illustrations demonstrated the different types of magic. The middle one was doing something wandlessly, but Harry wasn't entirely sure that wandless magic fell into that category. He was re-reading the descriptions and debating the issue with himself when he heard the water heater over the refrigerator rumble to life and, a few seconds later, water assaulting the porcelain tub.

Snape appeared in the kitchen soon thereafter and sneered at the book open on the table. "I see you've taken my advice to improve yourself, then. Have you learned anything useful, or have you simply been trying to figure out how to enter the pictures so that you might have companions of a more equal intelligence to your own?"

Harry grit his teeth and counted to ten before speaking. "Actually." He interrupted when it looked like Snape was going to comment on his silence. "I hadn't heard of involuntary magic before, not like it talks about here. I thought all magic had to be caused in some way." He ended his sentence with a slight upswing in tone, not quite willing to ask an outright question of Snape.

"What do you think accidental magic is, Potter? You can't tell me that you believe children suddenly decide they'll do magic on purpose, do you? Surely you didn't intend to inflate that woman when you were twelve." Snape shook his greasy head decisively as he settled into the chair opposite Harry's. "No, despite your horrid behaviour and nought-for-brains, I don't think you meant to do that any more than I wanted turn my mother's best china pink when I was three." Snape settled back, his hands folded together on the edge of the table. "But, if you wish to discuss the various levels of voluntary magic, I request that you wait until our proper lesson tomorrow, so that Draco might participate. We shan't have time to properly begin your education this afternoon as he and I are going to the shops."

"You're what?" Harry exclaimed, sending his chair backwards with a screech as he stood. "You can't do that! You said that we can't leave the flat! Why are you taking Malfoy out? What about protecting us from the Death Eaters and the Ministry and everyone else out to kill us?" His voice had risen steadily to a shout and he was inches from acting violently towards the ugly man before him. "Why can't I go, then?"

Snape's eyebrow rose but he didn't otherwise react. "Oh, do shut up, Potter. We both know that the instant I let you out that front door, you'd make a run for it. Now, sit down and go back to your book." He glanced at the bathroom door, where the shower sounds had ceased. "Draco is going out with me to establish that I have a son, thus requiring a second bed-" he paused, turning his gaze back on Harry, "Unless you enjoy sleeping with Draco? I assure you that were it the case, I would gladly let the arrangements remain as they are."

Harry blanched and felt his lunch rise in his throat. "Er, actually..." He trailed off, then grew red when Snape snickered. The nasty bastard!

Fortuitously for Snape, Malfoy chose that moment to exit the bathroom, dressed in impeccable Muggle clothing and with hair dyed black. He rather looked like a corpse from a haunted hall: his pale coloring was not at all suited to dark hair, which only made the shadows of his pinched-looking face more visible, like a skeleton's. Harry laughed. "You'd best be careful, Malfoy, or they're gonna try to take you back to the morgue. Halloween was last month, you know."

"Oh, ha ha." Malfoy spat out. "Are you taking your insults from a children's book now?" He had lifted Magic and Me between his forefinger and thumb and peered at it with distaste, "Or is this an indication of the type of things we should get when we're at the shops? What say you, do you need a teddy bear and dummy to sleep on your own tonight?"

"Certainly not! You might want to get them for yourself, though. I've noticed how you couldn't keep your hands off me at night. Are you lonely without Snape there?"

Said man coughed delicately into his fist and eyed each boy in turn. "Don't you two remember what happened the last time you started fighting? I have absolutely no compunctions against tying you together this time. The floors could do with a good scrubbing, too." He glared at Malfoy, but not quite as menacingly as he could. "Go fetch our coats and wait in the hall. We will leave shortly."

He waited until Malfoy departed, then turned his full glare onto Harry. "You are to cook supper while we are out and then you are going to tidy the bedroom. I warned you about responding to Draco's taunts, Mr Potter. You are not to allow him to anger you - you must learn to control yourself." Snape turned to leave the kitchen, but paused in the doorway. "By the way, for the comment on his and my relationship, you will have to cook all three meals tomorrow as well, I think. You have no right to make such lewd assertations when you know nothing of the reality."

* * *

Next: Chapter 2, in which Malfoy and Potter are forced to scrub the entire safehouse with their wrists tied together while Snape enjoys an ice cream sundae. Then, one of the neighbours pops in with a get-well-soon gift for Snape's son. Meanwhile, the wizarding world is getting antsy about the disappearance of their young hero and You-Know-Who decides to get a makeover. 


End file.
